Omnitools and Guns
by argetho
Summary: A smart-ass hacker gets involved with some shady dealings on the Citadel. Along the way, he gets into trouble with a certain Krogan merc and crosses paths with Commander Shepard and his team. Who's kind of a dick. ME1/AU/OC.
1. The Red Lounge

_This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction, bringing some more cyberpunk flair to the ME universe—cos face it, in ME, hacking is treated as more magical than even the biotics. The ME1 Citadel is still my favorite part of the whole series and I wanted to play around in it. Some existing, some original characters, intersecting with Shepard's adventures, with somewhat altered locations/events._

_All comments and feedback are welcome, even if you absolutely hate it._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**The Red Lounge**

"I think this is the place, Wrex". Harn pointed at the flickering holo sign above the door, casting a bright green halo over the downtrodden corridor and the junk that littered it. The bulky Krogan looked out of place, shifting uneasy on his feet.

Neither of them had been to the lower levels of Zakera Ward before. This part of the citadel was cramped, a maze of narrow passages and aging machinery, left untouched by the Keepers. The residents were mostly humans, and they weren't the good kind with credits either.

But the message he'd received earlier was too intriguing and direct to ignore. "I hear you're going after Fist. Come see me, The Red Lounge, Zakera C56. Ask for Joren at the bar."

Whoever sent it had gotten straight down to business and invited one of the baddest mercenaries this side of the traverse for a chat. He was either stupid or dangerous, and either way, Wrex knew it would be interesting. He'd brought along Harn for back up, in case someone had set him up for payback. Much to Wrex's annoyance, Harn was a loose cannon like most other Krogan, and not the most agreeable either. But he owed Wrex a favor and he wasn't a complete idiot.

Ducking to step through the doorway, Wrex let his eyes scan the room, peering through the shadows at the edges. The main bar stretched towards the back, where a staircase curved up towards an upper level. A dozen humans were scattered across small tables, talking in hushed tones, exhaling smoke into the already thick air. There was something about the insides of this place. It looked handcrafted and even artistic, but at the same time old and worn out. Scratched brass on aging wood, dust covered lights hanging low from the ceiling, casting a soft orange glow... Wrex didn't quite know what to make of it. Why would humans build a place like this on the Citadel?

What's more, the sight of two armed Krogans walking in should've turned heads. The fact that nobody seemed to notice spoke volumes. Underneath the quiet veneer, this little hide-away was just as crooked as some of the seediest bars on Omega.

"I'm looking for Joren", Wrex said as he walked up to the bar.

The bartender, a tough looking human female, looked the two mercs over skeptically before nodding towards the back. "He's upstairs."

The wooden boards of the stairs creaked with unease as the two massive mercs ascended. The smoke was thick here on the upper level, hard to see much except for a large table sitting brightly in the middle. It was oddly shaped, covered in red felt, with holes lining the edges. Colored balls were arranged on top. This was some kind of bar game? Not the kind a Krogan would play, Wrex thought.

And on the far side, sitting alone in a booth, was a single human hunched over a large drink, looking every bit the opposite of imposing.

Wrex chuckled. 'Stupid' it is then. Guess I don't need Harn after all.

"So, which one of you is Wrex?" the human offered as they approached.

Wrex studied the human. He found they were pretty transparent most of the time, but there was not much to read on this one's face. He had no scars, no wrinkles and a clean appearance and didn't seem bothered by the imposing Krogan peering down at him, or the unexpected guest tagging along. Correction, Wrex noted, 'Young and Stupid'.

"I am." he finally let out, letting his pride show.

"Have a seat. I'm Joren.", the human gestured.

Suspicious, Wrex shuffled in, his bulky armor barely fitting in the booth. Harn stood back, leaning into the game table, and waited for Wrex's inevitable charm to descend upon the little human.

"So, Joren." he said, drawing out the syllables. "Let's talk about Fist." He leaned into the table with a grin, bringing the full might of the Krogan into the conversation.

"Straight to the point. I see we have that in common. Very well." Joren replied with a simple nod.

"I'm an information and tech specialist, I do the odd job here and there. Fist recently hired my services to help him track and intercept a shipment of Batarian weapon mods. Which is easy enough, if you know your way around Citadel shipping and navigation nets." he said with a flourish. "But his goons botched the pick up, and he wanted to make sure no evidence pointed back to him. And that included taking me out."

Wrex had heard enough. "And now you're hiding down here, hoping I take out Fist before he kills you." He tilted his head and stared the human right in the eyes. He'd had this conversation a dozen times before.

"But maybe I'm not in a rush." Wrex mused. "Maybe I'll just wait for a while before killing Fist, let him take care of his own business first. Unless you want to offer me some motivation to hurry up. With your line of work, I'm sure you have some spare credits sitting around."

Harn grinned as he shifted his pose. Wrex was always entertaining to watch in his element, on or off the battlefield.

But the human straightened up and stared right back. "Or maybe I don't need to hide. Maybe while I was hacking the Citadel nets, I broke into Fist's systems too and installed a covert VI right in his mainframe. Maybe I changed his correspondence to make his kill order disappear, and made him think the job was done, taking the heat off. But you're right, I do have spare credits lying around, seeing as I ferried the would-be killer's fee into my own accounts."

Wrex perked up, narrowing his eyes. The human had brains and a quad after all... that was unexpected. He knew a lot more than he was letting on.

The man continued. "The thing is, Wrex, I don't care if Fist dies, he'll get what's coming to him eventually. But you do. I can get you access codes to his compound. I can hack his security systems. I can fake an emergency to clear out the place. That should make your job much easier."

"My job?" Wrex grumbled.

"To get me inside Fist's office. There's an item in his personal safe that I want to retrieve. And if he happens to die in the process, well, who am I to complain?" Joren added sardonically.

Wrex smiled at the human's refreshing take on things. Perhaps they had something in common after all. He had clearly thought this through. "What exactly is this … item … you're looking to pick up?"

"I found mention of it in Fist's logs. It's some kind of covert infiltration module, highly secure. But without access codes, or someone who knows how to circumvent them, it's nothing but a paper weight. So far he's just been sitting on it. I'm sure I could put it to better use, if I can get my hands on it."

Wrex had been on tech runs before, and having a tech specialist on his side did always make things easier. Either way, he wasn't exactly going to storm the place solo, he wasn't that stupid.

There was just one thing left to address. "As nice as this all sounds, I don't want a fragile human along for the ride when I go after Fist. They tend to slow me down when shot at", he countered grimly.

Undeterred, Joren played his hand, quite literally. Casually he raised his finger, suddenly glowing a vibrant blue, the air around it rippling with biotic energy. The glass in front of him gently lifted up and slowly turned upside down. The liquid inside seemed entirely unbothered by this.

Levitation by itself wasn't that hard, but as a fellow biotic, Wrex knew the control and precision required to keep the contents from flying all over the place. Impressive.

Joren finished his little demonstration, depositing the glass neatly. "Us human biotics are rare and most of us are untrained, but I've picked up a few things over the years. I can hold my own and I'm not too bad with a pistol either. But if that doesn't convince you, I can throw in some top of the line Batarian mods to sweeten the deal too."

Wrex saw where this was headed, but he played along. "I thought you just said Fist's goons botched the job."

"They did. All the crates reached their intended destination." Joren explained. "Except for one, which mysteriously vanished off the shipping manifest. That same day, the port's auto-loader found a lost crate belonging to a sealed shipment of pet food, destined for the Citadel. Which then disappeared on arrival at Zakera Ward and was written off as a minor loss." Joren deadpanned.

Wrex erupted into a hearty laugh, turning to his fellow Krogan to catch his reaction. But Harn was most definitely not amused, crossing his arms as he shifted his weight. Here was a biotic hacker who stole weapon mods from under the Batarian's ugly noses and now wanted to pal around with mercs. And the guy was smug about it too.

Harn stepped forward and leaned over too casually. "You've got this all figured out, don't you. Tell me human, do you always get what you want?"

"Most of the time", Joren quipped, feigning blissful ignorance.

And in between the pleasantries, the threat loomed invisibly in the air, thicker than the smoke billowing in from below.


	2. Hollow Pursuits

**Chapter 2**

**Hollow Pursuits**

The meeting with the Krogan merc had gone over well, as risky and as massive of a bluff as it had been. Joren had cashed in on a big favor with Melina, the bartender at the Lounge who had a soft spot for him, making sure he had a place to meet quietly, and a back door he could escape out of in a pinch. Though he hadn't expected two Krogans for the price of one, and that was a mistake to be remembered for later.

When the tip about Fist's latest trouble had come in, Joren saw his chance and had done his homework. He'd dug up everything he could find on the merc, and concluded Wrex was not typical of his species. He was known to be brutal yes, but only in the right situation, never reckless. And he always seemed to team up with experienced mercs and soldiers, taking on dangerous jobs with big enough guns to see it through. When offered a massive tactical advantage, he would at least consider it, if the person offering it was reliable enough.

Which was why Joren had staged that biotic parlour trick. Joren had some biotic skills, but he was all power and no control. His skill with mass effect fields was nowhere near accurate enough to pull off the feat in earnest. The glass hadn't been real. It was a hologram projected using a portable generator hidden under the table, a neat little Asari prototype he had gotten his hands on. It had worked perfectly, they hadn't noticed he wasn't even drinking, and now Wrex seemed to be on his side. The meeting quickly ajourned, the two of them had agreed to meet again later to go over the details in private.

The other Krogan though, Harn as Wrex had called him, was a problem. Joren suspected he hated humans, and probably liked it even less to be dragged out to chaperone a business proposition not involving him. The malicious look he threw in Joren's direction when they left didn't leave much to the imagination.

And now the man found himself pacing through the dirty alleys of Lower Zakera, and someone was definitely following him. Down here it was always night, and the claustrophobic tunnels that ran through the place were unsafe at any time. But Joren knew to be careful, and he knew his way around better than most.

As he rounded the next corner, he pulled a tiny bug from his pocket and stuck it on top of one of the pipes hanging above. A quick tap on his omnitool linked the feed. As soon as he passed into the next shaft, he checked his wrist display and saw his fears confirmed: a large Krogan on a mission. Harn had clearly decided the business with Fist was none of his concern and instead wanted a piece of the action himself. Like say, some nice weapon mods he could pocket or sell on the black market.

Joren took a deep breath and considered his options. Despite what he'd told Wrex, he wasn't cut out to take on a Krogan in a fair fight. He could try and shake him, but that would just piss Harn off even more, until the next time they ran into each other. So that left only the third option. "Alright." he mumbled, as he gathered himself.

Looking around, Joren spotted a large metal can discarded on the floor and gave it a solid kick. Its clangs echoed around the shaft, sure to give away his position. He hurried on and turned into a well-lit corridor, leading straight to his apartment, foregoing the usual long route.

Joren, the very model of composure, stepped over the threshold into his lair. Then, as soon as the door had closed, he frantically got to work. His place was a complete mess, half workshop, half extranet hub, filled with gadgets, terminals and tools, boxes stacked high against the walls. Digging through a pile of discarded parts on his workbench, he quickly found what he needed. There wasn't much time.

When Harn forced the door open just minutes later, Joren was sitting stoically in his swivel chair by his desk, directly facing him, not bothering to show any surprise.

Harn wasted no time and aimed his shotgun. "Hand over the weapon mods, human. And maybe I'll let you live." he barked.

Now that's what we call a lie, Joren thought. "I don't think so." he intoned calmly, pushing down his fear like he'd done at the meeting before.

Harn stepped forward slowly, not letting off. "You may have convinced Wrex that you're not a shifty pyjak, but not me. You want to play with the big boys? Well this is what happens. Now hand over the goods!" he demanded, cocking his gun.

Joren simply folded his hands together. "You know what the difference is between you and me, Harn?" He paused, piquing the Krogan's reluctant interest. "I know when I'm outgunned. Also, my mother wasn't a Batarian slave whore."

Harn roared at the insult and started blasting his shotgun in rage. But where there should have been blood and gore, there was only the shimmering of a hologram, set against a backdrop of exploding upholstery and pillow fluff. Realizing his mistake, he spun around, just in time to see the targeting laser paint him on the forehead from the other room. The plasma welder it was duct taped to sent out a high pitched whine as it overloaded, shooting out a violent discharge that knocked him to the ground. With his shields fried and his suit mechanics failing, he lay there moaning, trying to get his bearings.

Joren emerged from his workshop, gripping his newly modded pistol tightly. The smell of ozone from the discharge burned in his nostrils as he stepped over to the lumbering brute, determined to see this through. With only a moment's hesitation, he pointed at the enormous armored head, and pumped the trigger until the clip was empty. Behind him, the now-ruined welder sparked and fizzed, stuttering out its last dying breaths.

As soon as Wrex stepped inside he saw the "problem" Joren's message had mentioned, in the form of Harn's bloodied corpse. His surprise turned to amusement when he saw the man himself standing off to the side, still holding his gun. His calculated facade had finally cracked, revealing the frazzled human underneath, just as Wrex had suspected. Satisfied, he slapped Joren on the back, eliciting a muffled "oof".

"Care to explain why there's a dead Krogan on your floor, little man?"


	3. The Alliance's Finest

**Chapter 3**

**The Alliance's Finest**

"_Warning. Environmental breach detected. Please evacuate this area immediately._", repeated the droning voice of the VI for the umpteenth time.

Garrus ignored the warning and finished rigging the explosive. Stepping back to take cover, he looked over at Shepard and Alenko. "Fire in the hole!" he shouted as he slammed down on the detonator, mimicking the human military vids he'd discovered recently and devoured eagerly in his off-time.

The heavy door to Fist's warehouse was blown wide open, sending chunks of metal flying through the air. The three soldiers pushed through the lingering wisps of smoke with military precision, spreading out to take cover behind two heavy lifters parked inside.

The warehouse was large but half empty, crates stacked up at the edges, catwalks and cranes hanging from the tall ceiling above. The guards milling around on the far side had been jostled into action by the sudden explosion, readying their weapons.

"I count 6 hostiles, tight formation, no civilians", reported Garrus, peering over the edge, bullets now whizzing by uncomfortably close.

"Alright. Pick your shots, stick to cover. Alenko, biotics!" Shepard ordered.

The L2 focused and sensed out the space between him and his targets. "Immobilize, then eliminate", he said to himself, steadying his mind, remembering his training. Balling his hand into a fist, he fired off a powerful Lift, yanking two guards in the middle off their feet, dangling them helplessly in mid-air.

On cue, Shepard and Garrus raised their rifles. The N7's aim was confident, instantly sighting in one of the remaining guards who was sloppy in his cover. Shepard fired off five high impact rounds, obliterating the guard's shields, turning the head to mush with the final shot. But as he aimed towards the next guard, the biotic field suddenly detonated with force, throwing the hostiles around like rag dolls, slamming them hard against the walls and knocking them out.

Shepard examined what was left. Seeing no more activity on the ground and nothing on the catwalks above, he cautiously lowered his weapon. The fight had ended as quickly as it had started, with a bang. It was nice when things went right for a change.

Garrus rejoined his squad mates. "Good show Alenko. But next time, maybe you should leave some for me." the Turian chimed with feigned disappointment, clearly impressed.

Kaidan stretched out his hand, his thick eyebrows raising in puzzlement. "That uh... wasn't me.", he replied awkwardly. "Someone else is here."

Shepard snapped back into action, scanning his surroundings. He was not a fan of surprises. When they'd walked into Fist's club, the mercs waiting for them had posed a tough challenge. Fist had known they were coming. When they'd reached the compound behind the club, the environmental alarm that started blaring seemed awfully coincidental, but he chalked it up to luck, seeing as it would mean less civilians to get in the way of their fire. Then again, civilians generally didn't get involved in biotic combat.

Listening closely, he heard what sounded like a hushed argument coming from a warehouse office off to the side, overlooking the floor.

"Come out where we can see you, weapons down!" he ordered, aiming his rifle. Garrus and Kaidan moved in position.

No response.

"10...9...8...7..." Shepard started without hesitation.

"Alright!" someone yelled back.

A lightly armored human male emerged slowly, holding out his pistol in surrender. A heavy set Krogan in full merc gear followed, brandishing a deadly looking shotgun and a mean look to match. Shepard eyed the odd pair, not lowering his guard.

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in Fist's warehouse?" he demanded.

"I'm Joren, and this is Wrex." the human offered. "And I suspect we're here for the same reason... Commander Shepard."

Shepard cringed imperceptibly. It bothered him every time someone recognized him right away. It put him at a permanent disadvantage, and it was only getting worse every day. That reporter he'd punched had made sure of that.

"_You're_ going after Fist?" he said incredulously, putting two and two together.

"Well, _he_ is." Joren motioned towards the bulky merc.

Wrex ran a gloved hand over his gun barrel. "I'm going to kill him." he stated, as surely as if it'd already happened. "Courtesy of the Shadow Broker."

Shepard eased off, pondering the mutual interests at play. "And what's your part in all this?" he said, turning back to Joren.

"Let's just say our man Fist owes me. He has something in his safe that I want. And I tend to be good at opening things, if you catch my drift."

"So you two snuck in through the back and tried to empty out the place with a fake emergency? Except it didn't work, the guards were still here. Sounds like a good way to get yourself killed." Shepard lectured self-assuredly.

Joren assessed the man in front of him and went on the offensive. "Perhaps, perhaps not." he mused, folding his arms. "But then, so is barging into a club full of mercs guns blazing. I've been watching you on Fist's security feeds, Commander. That was quite the entrance, though I suspect you weren't expecting the welcoming committee. Should've tried our plan instead, it was pretty quiet until you showed up."

Shepard hated to admit it, but the man had a point. Not that he'd ever say so out loud. "We made it here just fine."

"And then took out the guards with a little help from a friend." Joren added, flashing a grin towards Alenko.

"That detonation was you?" Kaidan piped up. He'd been surprised at the force of the blast, and the audacity of the biotic who'd caused it. Most people ran the other way when Alliance soldiers were on the prowl, especially if someone like Shepard was involved. "Where did y–"

"Enough chatter." Shepard snapped. This non-stand-off was not worth his time. "I'm going to see Fist, and he's going to tell me what I need to know. Beyond that, I don't really care. We're done here." He turned to leave and motioned his team to follow deeper into the compound.

"He's got heavy security installed in his office, Commander. Nasty, nasty turrets." Joren called after him. "Not to mention the second meanest Krogan on the Citadel as his personal bodyguard." he added, throwing a subtle compliment in Wrex's direction. "Are you sure you don't want some more firepower on your side?"

Shepard hesitated and stopped. This Joren character was quickly getting on his nerves. But the Krogan looked like he could do some serious damage with that shotgun, and it never hurt to have somebody else drawing fire. "Fine. But you stay back and follow my orders to the letter. Nobody touches Fist until I say so. Understood?" he stated firmly.

Joren looked over at his Krogan companion for approval, hoping he'd go along with it. "Understood." he repeated obediently. Wrex was clearly still on the fence, but reluctantly joined in. Catching up with the Alliance team, Joren activated his omnitool and started tapping out codes at impressive speed, drawing curious looks from Garrus and Alenko, and an icy glare from the Commander.

"What the hell are you doing now?" demanded Shepard, advancing cautiously through the next hallway, towards the soon-to-be late crime boss' office.

"Loading up the control schematics for those turrets. I can set up an EM scrambler to jam the targeting sensors." Joren smiled. "Fist is about to find out why he should've bought the more expensive ones."


	4. Redecorating

**Chapter 4**

**Redecorating**

Wrex didn't like playing second fiddle to anyone, he was usually the one leading a squad. But he'd heard about this Commander Shepard. So far, he seemed to be living up to the stories. And he seemed to have a knack for picking talent, judging by his team.

Wrex would've been fine to just let the bastard take all the heat though, until Joren had gone and showed off his biotics, blowing their cover in the warehouse. Shepard was right about one thing, the little pyjak was going to get himself shot if he kept it up.

But they'd dealt with the remaining guards with ease, and the hacks had worked. They'd stormed Fist's office, his turrets' shots impacting aimlessly on the walls and ceiling, shredding the expensive interior design to pieces. With his bodyguard dead, Fist was left cowering behind the remains of his desk, no option left but surrender.

Shepard stormed up to him and got straight to business, mincing few words, letting the barrel of his gun introduce himself instead. "Where's the Quarian?" he yelled, aiming it.

Fist practically begged and rolled over. "S-she's not here, she ran off to meet the Shadow Broker." he pleaded. "But when she shows up, it'll be Saren's men waiting for her. The back alley, behind the markets nearby. You can make it if you hurry."

Saren. Now there was a name he hadn't heard in a while. Wrex had only dealt with him once, but the entire ordeal had smelled rotten from the start. He'd known to step away from that job before things went really south. If Shepard was going after Saren, he was in a heap of trouble. The fun kind.

"Alright. Garrus, Alenko, let's go!", Shepard yelled at his team, shooting a knowing look at Wrex as they ran out.

"Hey! What about m–" Fist didn't get to finish his sentence on account of the shotgun shells ripping his chest to pieces.

Wrex wandered over to the body, assessing his kill. "Another job well done", he smirked, popping out the empty shells.

Joren, preferring not to look, flicked on his omnitool instead. With a couple of taps, he activated the backdoor he'd planted remotely, unlocking the safe with a satisfying clunk, eagerly anticipating its contents.

"Got it... Huh. There's a bunch of credit chits in here too." Joren remarked, tapping his omnitool to scan the haul, eyes going wide. "There's at least a five hundred K here. A fifty-fifty split should make for a nice bonus to wrap this up with?" he offered as he pocketed his coveted prize, a tiny, unassuming black box lined with metal contacts. Reaching into another pocket, he quickly unrolled a soft cloth bag and started shovelling out the rest of the loot.

"Sounds good. You know where to find me." Wrex said, as he turned around to leave, his mind made up.

"Wait. Where are you going?" asked Joren, not quite liking where this was headed.

"After this, I don't think I'll be needing to do any jobs for a while. If Shepard's picking fights with Saren, I want to be there to see the bastard go down." Wrex said, picturing the kill in his head, flashing his teeth with wicked glee. "You coming?"

* * *

Fuck, Joren thought. Why was he doing this again? In less than 24 hours he'd gone from being a tech working from the shadows to shooting mercs and raiding a crime lord's stash. He could step away right now, be a very happy, much wealthier man and just go back to thinking up snappy comebacks from relative safety. And yet here he was running after a Krogan chasing Alliance Special Ops. Who were going after Saren, the Council Spectre. He was going to have to do some digging on this one later.

Commander Shepard was a complete asshole too. Undoubtedly he got things done, but he didn't seem to care how many bodies he had to step over to get there, and he certainly wasn't the kind of guy he'd invite out for a friendly drink.

And what was up with that quiet Turian anyway? He was wearing C-Sec stripes. Generally they didn't take the law in their own hands that... directly. Something big was going down.

Okay, he had to admit, it was easier to act like a bad-ass when you had experienced soldiers covering for you. And it had at least something to do with the ridiculously cute biotic that Shepard had in tow. The Lieutenant had gotten all flustered when he'd realized Joren had turned his controlled mastery of military biotics into an explosive free-for-all. Joren did always have a thing for uniforms, and he wanted to get his hands on some military gear in more ways than one.

As they turned another corner, his wistful line of thinking was cut short by a hail of bullets impacting on the bulkhead ahead.

"Take cover!" ordered Wrex. "I'm going in. Follow me if you dare." he challenged, charging in enthusiastically.

The market area wasn't nearly as sketchy as Joren's own haunts down in the lower levels. The corridors were wider and there weren't any shadows to hide in. It would be hard to get close to see what was going on without getting shot at, and he did have his newfound fortune to consider. But he didn't want to sit this one out either.

Spying a maintenance ladder over in the corner, Joren dashed over and climbed into the rafters. The pipes were filthy, and there were sharp metal bits jutting out everywhere. Clambering on all fours, he carefully made his way over to where the fight was taking place.

Looking down through the gaps, he saw the alley opening up into a wider area. Damp smoke was rising, flashing with gunfire, bangs reverberating off the metal walls. He counted half a dozen Turian and Salarian agents fighting Shepard's team, divided by the aftermath of an explosion, warped metal covered in blue guts and ash. This was serious. The Shadow Broker must've had back up waiting.

He could see the Quarian, pinned down behind cover. A single shot pierced through the noise. Garrus had pulled out a sniper rifle of all things and had nailed one of the Salarians right in the eye. Shields or not, somebody's brains were now most definitely arranged differently.

Wrex took cover to reload his rifle, assessing his targets. Vaulting out of cover, he charged headfirst into a lone Turian separated from the herd, the Krogan's biotics flaring in full effect. They were winning, it would be over soon.

And over in the corner, he spied the talented Lieutenant, gearing up for another attack.

Only three agents were left now, pinned down together. Alenko fired off another Lift field in their midst. Barely a moment later, it detonated violently, ending the battle abruptly.

Garrus jumped to his feet, his face twitching with irritation. "Oh come on, not again!"


	5. Dancing with the Krogan

**Chapter 5**

**Dancing with the Krogan**

Satisfied the battle was over, Wrex relaxed, clipping his gun to his armor as he turned to the Commander. The fight had been good, a perfect maelstrom of controlled violence, just the way he liked it. The back alley was quiet again, save for the hum of machines and clattering of weapons being put away.

"Shepard."

"Wrex."

He stared the other warrior right in the eyes. The adrenaline of battle still pumped through their systems as the air settled around them.

"I like your style. Charging in like that. I could use a man like you on my team." Shepard panted.

"Funny," Wrex replied, offering his hand. "I was just about to suggest the same thing."

"Then welcome aboard.", Shepard said, returning the gesture. He locked eyes with the Krogan, squeezing his hand tightly, an invisible tug of war between Alphas, neither man letting go. The testosterone simply had to assert itself.

The Quarian walked up, dusting off her shoulder, not a scratch on her. "Thanks for rescuing me, uhm, ..." she interrupted awkwardly, melodious tones humming through her suit's filter. She was clearly out of her comfort zone, caught up in things way over her head.

In an instant, Shepard loosened his grip and turned to the new arrival. His piercing gaze assessed the young woman and her surprisingly tight body suit, the corner of his mouth crawling upwards.

"Commander Shepard, Alliance.", he said too smoothly, suddenly the paragon of charm. "Are you alright, miss...?"

"Tali'Zorah vas Neema. But you may call me Tali. Yes, yes I'm fine." she replied starstruck. Like a deer in headlights, Wrex thought.

Shepard walked up and subtly placed his hand on the Quarian's back, guiding her away from the group. "I heard you have important evidence regarding Saren and the Geth. Why don't we take a look at what you've got." he continued.

Wrex chuckled at the obvious move, turning to take in his new squad mates now that he'd seen them fight a proper battle. The Turian was a crack shot even under pressure, and Alenko's biotics had lasted long and hit hard. Add him in the mix, and Saren'd better watch out, he thought.

"So, Saren's involved with Geth now. Does this have anything to do with the rumored Geth attack on Eden Prime?" he asked neither man in particular.

Alenko swallowed, remembering the carnage. "Those weren't rumors, I was there. It was... brutal. We lost some good men." he sighed, remembering Jenkins cut to shreds minutes into the mission. "Saren was after some Prothean tech, an ancient beacon." Kaidan offered by way of explanation. "He flew in on a dreadnaught, landed an army of geth. They turned the colonists into husks using some kind of alien machinery. I've never seen anything like it." he added grimly.

Wrex pondered the implications. The Galactic landscape was about to get a lot more interesting, he thought.

Suddenly he heard rustling coming from the rafters above. The sound of biotics warbled over an increasingly loud "FFFFFFUUUUU—", as heads spun around in reflex. A man looking suspiciously like Joren dropped down, arms flailing, biotics flashing irregularly. His efforts were not enough, and gravity took over, slamming him into the floorplates with a loud thud.

* * *

"I was wondering when you'd show up." Garrus shot his way, inspecting his sniper rifle with marked disinterest in the events.

It'd been too dark up there to see the oil leak that had greased up the pipes. Joren had sailed right off, his slicked gloves unable to get a grip. Defeated, he peeled himself off the cold floor, nobody in particular motioning to help.

"I saw your hole-in-one on the Salarian, Garrus. Nice shot.", Joren offered back in embarrasment.

Garrus' narrowed his eyes, pondering the human figure of speech. "Thanks." he said reluctantly.

Wrex looked right at him, unimpressed with his antics. "That's got to be one of the shittiest descents I've seen in a long while, Joren." he said, never a fan of rosy words. "You said you knew your way around biotics. Don't tell me you've run out of juice already." he added, crossing his arms.

Damnit. "Well. I may have... exaggerated a little bit." he offered sheepishly. "I... wanted to make sure you wouldn't think I couldn't handle myself.", he said, deciding honesty was his only way out at this point.

"What about you showing off in the bar?" Wrex snapped, irritated.

Joren sighed. "Asari C19X holo emitter. Full surface detail with microshading, coupled with a fluid dynamics sim for the beer. I worked hard to get it just right, you know." he said apologetically, as if it mattered.

Wrex hated few things, but lies and liars were two of them. He growled, leaping forward to headbutt the man who'd just made him look the fool. The crack of a broken nose bounced around as he hit the ground for the second time.

"What the fuck!" Joren howled, clutching his face, blood streaming down his hand.

Garrus stayed immensely interested in the condition of his rifle, his face shifting slowly to the same joyful expression he usually reserved for the human military vids.

"Don't lie to me ever again." Wrex ordered, stepping back as Alenko butted in. Looking around, he spotted a crate and plonked himself down, satisfied he'd reasserted his dominance.

"Alright, you fucker!" Joren shouted exasperated. "You got what you wanted out of this and a hell of a lot more. So give me some credit here." Damn soldiers and their wounded pride, he thought, seething inside.

Wrex didn't bother to answer, he'd said all he needed to.

Kaidan was the first to break the silence. "I've got medi-gel." he offered quietly, reaching for a small medkit on his belt. "Here, sit up.", he said, crouching down.

Joren stretched up against the wall and tried to ignore the throbbing pain between his temples. Looking up, he suddenly found himself locked into those damn cute puppy dog eyes, as the man who owned them rubbed the soothing miracle of modern medical science into his battered face.

Acutely aware of this stunning turn of events, he pushed away the hurt and fired up his rattled brain, hoping to the non-existent gods he could come up with something good before the drugs kicked in.

Finally satisfied, he let himself fall into a stupid grin, taking in those hazelnut jewels floating in front of him as the opiates hit his brain. "Hey Alenko... at least, you know, I'm pretty good at blowing biotics..."

The blush all over the bashful Lieutenant's face was totally worth it.

_fin._


End file.
